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Placing his forearms on the top rope, Terry wiped the sweat from his face and turned to face Ana.

"I'm fine."

"You sure? I heard Castillo fucked you up."

"Could say the same about you with Cosmo. But I won."

Ana scowled. This past week, both Ana and Terry had been involved in wars that, most likely, shaved years off their careers. Secretly, Terry was still worried about himself. A part of him was convinced his bell was still rung, and despite taking the past few days easy, there were still moments where his vision became distorted. Perhaps it was his body trying to get back into the groove of things. It was never going to be easy taking that much time off. His body needed time to adjust to taking a beating again, and with a renewed motivation and a clear goal in mind, Terry couldn't afford to ease himself back in. But perhaps it was more than that - Terry had never taken a beating like that before.

The silence lingered between the two as they rested up against the ropes. Both were beat up, both were tired, but neither could afford to rest much longer. The few days following his Castillo fight - it was exactly that, a fight - Terry spent the days healing, knowing he could take it easy in his trio's bout. But there was virtually no time for him after that. Four days later he'd be wrestling Blaise Fader for the newly commissioned New Atlantic Championship, before hopping on a plane to Sydney to make his debut in Union Battleground. His schedule was hectic, but no matter how much his body cried in pain, Terry had to push on.

"Then what's up?"

"Nothin'."

"Come on, dude. I could have taken your head off at least six times just then. Like, I'm not trying to kill you."

"It's just... nah, it's nothin'."

Trailing off, Terry lowered his head, and Ana looked on, propping her hand up on her hip.

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

Ana smirked.

"Yes."

"I'm bein' serious, Ana! You don't think I'm takin' too much on?"

"I do. But I also know that you wouldn't be TMac if you didn't. It's what you do, init."

Laughing, Ana playfully punched Terry in his arm, but he barely flinched. Instead, he was deep in his mind, trapped in his own thoughts. This was how it always started, each instance was being played out in his head. Galveston, Monarchy, Gulf Coast - Japan - his success was always short lived. At least that was the case in recent years, and he never could pinpoint why.

"I guess..."

"If you ask me - which, lets face it, you practically are - I think only you know how much is too much. I could give you a thousand answers, but you're only going to hear what you want to hear."

"I've just never been in a position like this before. I 'ave, but not like this - not to this extent."

Grimacing in pain, Terry turned around and rested up against the turnbuckle.

"I've never been the guy before. Never. Galveston, Monarchy, Gulf Coast; I was well-respected, treated like someone who meant somethin', but there was always a 'but'. I never knew 'ow to get to that next level, but now I 'ave. In the space of 11 days, I will 'ave wrestled four times, and with each match having championship implications. Rebellion, Rebellion/RSR, CWC and Union Battleground..."

Terry straightens his back.

"And I can barely fuckin' walk. Blaise is gonna kill me."

"Yeah... she's good. Gonna be a tough one, man."

"I just don't wanna let them down, ya know?"

It had been a while since Terry wanted to do something for them - them being the UK fans. Though in his mind, everything he was doing was for them, including taking out some of their favourites. It had been an unorthodox method, at least for Terry, who was usually so clean-cut, but it was effective. He made a statement, and that statement had positioned him as a top player in Rebellion right off the bat. Sitting comfortably as the number one contender to the Rebellion Pro Championship, the only person Terry was looking up to was a man he had beaten already. Through this, Terry was afforded opportunities elsewhere - the biggest of which was a chance at becoming the inaugural Rebellion/RSR New Atlantic Champion.

Since he debuted in Rebellion, his mission was to restore the reputation of British wrestling. In his eyes, the damage was already done, and it was going to take a lot of work to bring it back to what it once was. This was exactly what he needed - the missing piece to the puzzle. The New Atlantic Championship would all but confirm the UK as wrestling's superior power, and it was all down to him. He wanted this. He needed this.

"They're countin' on me, Ana."

"Good... good. I believe in you too, dude."

Ana walked away from the ropes, tied her hair up into a bun, and motioned for Terry to come towards her.

"But right now, I'm counting on you to, like, get out of your feelings and get through this session."

Glancing at Ana, Terry flashed a smile.

"As long as drinks are on you afterwards - 4CW money and that."

The two shared a smirk as they engaged in a collar and elbow tie up. Despite everything that was going on in his career at the moment, Terry had his focus on one thing: beating Blaise Fader and becoming the first New Atlantic Champion.